All I Want For Christmas
by Frogger No Baka
Summary: If we're good, Santa grants us any wish we want. But what if we want something so good, yet so forbidden. BootsSpot.
1. prerequisite

w00t. I'm so glad to finally write again. It's been a long time. I know a lot of people wanted the next thing I wrote to be more Dance Till I Die, but I really wasn't in the mood to write it. Sorry. But on to this fic.  
  
I don't really know where the inspirtation for this came from. I guess it was from me kind of doing nothing and I realized that noone writes slash with Boots. And I felt that he was neglected. So I decided to write some Boots/Spot. I thought it'd be interesting. I think that what I've written (the prologue) has come out pretty good.   
  
This prologue is dedicated to Alexandra Paige. Happy 17, dear. :)**  
**

  
~~~  
  
All I Want For Christmas  
by froggerNObaka  


_  
Dear Santa,  
  
Jack once told me that if you wanted something for Christmas, you could write a letter to Santa Claus, and he would give it to you. And since then, I've usually written you a letter. Only I never send it, because I'm sure you have better things on your mind. But this time, I want something more than I've ever wanted something before.  
  
Santa, I don't know what it is I'm going to do. If my friends ever find out what I'm writing to you about, they will hurt me in all kinds of ways. They already did it to our friend, Dutchy. And he's in the hospital. I visit him every day, and I pray for him. But it looks like he's going to take a turn for the worse. So that's my first Christmas wish. Don't let Dutchy die.  
  
But, also, there's another thing. A bigger thing. I think I've fallen in love. And it's an amazing thing. I always feel happy when I see the person I've fallen in love with. Georgeous blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Perfect. Well, almost perfect.  
  
Santa, I've fallen in love with a boy.  
_  


~~~  


  
**Next Chapter:** Do I even know this yet? *coughs* I'm a spontaneous fic writer. Well, I know how it's going to end; I suppose it's just getting there that's important. And that puts this steps ahead of DTID. *cough*  
  
Anyway, please review. Tell me how bad I am at writing. If you like the fic. Suggestions, comments, critiques. Helpful stuff or various crap. I'm not accepting CCs on this one; I'm going to try and do it with all canon, or at least canon, females, and Brooklyn newsboys I'm going to make up for Spot's side of the pond. And DTID and its CCs are more than I can handle now anyway.  
  
Song**ofthe**Day: "Fame" from... well, Fame.  
  



	2. confusion and elusion

Wow. I can't believe I'm actually writing more than one chapter of a fic. It's almost a scary thought. 'Tis the season to be writing (happy holidays, by the way). Yep. Much shoutouts to follow. I've never done that before...**  
  
Thistle **~ I know, I'm such an equal opportunity provider, right?**  
  
Twitchy **~ *huggles* Go ahead. Squeal like a fangirl. It'll make me very happy.**  
  
Falcophie** ~ Hee. Thanks for Beta-ing. Which really does need to be a verb...**  
  
Alarice** ~ Thanks for reviewing!**  
  
Sita** ~ Thanks for betaing! And... *returns freakishly huge amounts of love***  
  
B** ~ I'm sorry! *whimpers* It's just... I picked a random boy, I swear. Keep reading, I swear... I'll... make up for it?**  
  
Gothica** ~ Aw, thanks babe. :) I hope I inspired people to write some B/S (*coughs* it was too tempting to pass up...). Or I hopefully will have by the time I'm done. **  
  
JustDuck** ~ There are a lot of good SlashFic out there. As soon as I'm done typing all of these up, I'm going to go read more of StilleNacht. I'm looking forward to it. :) But I recommend "Outkasts" by Lute.**  
  
Shortie** ~ Congratulations on being seventeen. And having your name in my fic. Rare experience.  
  


Anyway, enjoy the chapter. This was a good one for me; very introspective in a way. Wow. Inspiration rocks. Seriously.  


~~~**  
  
  
All I Want For Christmas  
by froggerNObaka  
  
Chapter 1: Confusion and Elusion  
  
Disclaimer**: _If you don't like slash and just plan to bash me at the end of this, please don't read it. I don't own the megaconglomerate that owns Newsies, I just bash it in my spare time._  
  
At 15, it sometimes felt like he was one of the younger newsboys. And when he was around those his age, it even felt worse. He hadn't really gone through puberty, so his voice was still pretty high. And he was pretty short. And when it came to his face, there wasn't even peach fuzz. So he always felt like he was an odd man out.  
  
And then there was that whole racial thing. Sometimes at night, he would go up to the roof and just cry. And usually somebody came up, hearing his sobbing, worried, and comforted him. It was usually Bumlets. The two boys were close in age and went through the same problems with race as each other. Bumlets would just sit there and watch him cry. He'd go for a long period without saying a word. And that was okay for Boots. Sometimes you just needed to know you weren't alone, even if you felt like you were. To know that somebody, someone out there, cares about you. Because his parents sure didn't care about him. His dad left New York the day he was born. And his mother, well she would drink and abuse him. Yes, she drank. It was hard being black. Even in the North.  
  
 Boots was pondering all of this as he stared at the mirror in the washroom. Race was next to him shaving. Of course. More ways to lower his self-esteem. Boots sighed and decided to make it early to the distribution center. Perhaps he could get a headstart on the day and finish selling early.  
  
Jack put a hand on Boots' shoulder before Boots exited the lodging house. Boots looked up at the older boy curiously. Jack had always been an older-brother figure to Boots, and Boots tended to listen to his advice until he got a meticulous detail.You see, Boots had never had an older brother. Or a younger brother for that matter. He had small memories of a younger sister, but chances are he had made that up. People had said he was strange before, he wouldn't disappoint them nowf.  
  
"...And it would mean going to see Spot down in Brooklyn for me. But before you do, you have to realize that Spot is a _very_ dangerous man. It's probably best if you... hm. Give him a gift or something? And do you know how to swim? I'm pretty sure you do, but if you don't, you should learn in the time it takes you to get to Brooklyn. Because people swim there. But perhaps if you talk to Spot, he'll let you stay a while and talk things over? Get on his good side. You know, see how that goes. And when you're on his good side, well, come back to me. And that's when I'll tell you what you need to know."  
  
And it occured to Boots that he had _no _idea what Jack was talking about. "I'm pretty confused, Jack. I'm supposed to go to Brooklyn and see... some Spot?" Boots blinked a bit.  
  
"Not just 'some Spot', Boots. This is _Spot Conlon_. Even _I'm_ scared of him."  
  
Mush, as he was walking down the stairs, snickered as he overheard this. "That's not saying much, is it?" He laughed as he scampered out the door. Boots watched, amused, as Jack scowled after the absent Mush. After several curses, he turned back to his present conversation.  
  
"You need to do anything you can to get on Spot's good side, Boots. Or it could be dangerous. For me. For you. For anyone. Understand?"  
  
Boots nodded slowly. He still had absolutely no idea what was going on. But how hard it could it be to talk to some guy named "Spot"? Jack was probably overreacting. But that was a life skill for a newsie. Overreact and overexaggerate when you overestimated. That was a newsie's motto. And that motto sure helped Boots make it through some tough days.  
  
  
  
  
  


Oh, he shuddered thinking about all of the crazy headlines he ran into. He laughed as he walked down the street and remembered the tornado in January. The best piece of news on that was the damage done to the food crops. Of course, once you turned it into starvation for the masses, it wasn't too bad...  
  
  
  


[[scene]]**  
  
  
  
Next Chapter: Boots in Brooklyn (OR something like it)**  
  
Yay. This was fun. Fun fun fun fun. I love this fic. I really really do. Even though it's somewhat more spontaneous than I would have liked in terms of how I'm writing it. I'll try and write more over break.  
  
I would appreciate reviews of all kinds. Suggestions, comments, critiques. Helpful stuff or various crap. Flames, even; I take them with a bit of sugar. Just be justified. :) Yep. Happy holidays.  
  
Song**ofthe**Day: Nickelback's "Someday"


	3. revelation

**All I Want For Christmas  
by froggerNObaka**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Newsies_. There is no factual basis for the events herein.

It all became clear later that day talking to Racetrack. Despite the fact that Boots had never really been close to Race, he had always heard that the older boy was a fountain of information. He remembered Skittery, nervous as usual, mentioning it to Itey just last week. "Race knows almost everything and anything. He has his eye on all Manhattan." The thought made Boots' skin crawl at first; he wondered what Racetrack knew about him, and he searched his brains for anything that he'd said or done that he didn't want anybody knowing about. In retrospect, it seemed childish of him; the newsboys were all friends and everyone was generally supportive of each other. There's no way that anybody would blackmail you or tarnish your reputation.

After buying his papers, Boots waited for Racetrack to buy his before taking off next to the older boy. Race's silence suggested to Boots that Racetrack knew exactly what it was that he wanted. After a minute or two of silent walking, Race stopped and turned to Boots. "This is big, kid. I'm surprised Cowboy even trusts you with this stuff; it's crucial. Can't pull what you did this morning; when he looks that serious and starts talkin', you gotta listen." Boots just nodded, curious as to how Race even found out about this, but not curious enough to ask. "C'mon. Let's head to the harbor." The two boys started walking again, and Boots listened as Racetrack told him exactly what was going on.

"I'm gonna give you more information than he did this mornin'. I think the more you know, the better off you'll be when you go t'Brooklyn." He paused. "Until about two months ago or sometime around there, the boys in Queens were led by Red Sentala. Red, Jack, and Spot Conlon all got along pretty well, and between the three of them, everybody kept the newsies in line. Nobody left his territory, no _major_ scuffles, although there were a few minor issues here and there, but nothing serious. Things were pretty good. Boys from Queens would come over here and were friends with our boys, and the Brooklyn boys and the Manhattan boys were as good as brothers."

"But then, about two months ago, one of the Queens boys, Herring Smithson, got into a huge fight with Red over money that was lent and never paid back. The fight got so heated that Red kicked Herring out of the house and onto the street. The next day, Herring cornered Red in an alley and stabbed him. Red was cut up pretty bad. Didn't have much of a chance to make it.

"Well, when Jack and Spot heard, they put people on the lookout for Herring and the two of them met in Bay Ridge to figure out what they were gonna do about Queens. See, Red never named a leader and two of his right hand men, Leapfrog Jones and Sin Powell, both thought that they should be the ones to take his place. So while worrying about that, they also had to worry about finding Herring and protecting their boys. It was a complicated situation and there was a lot discussed, but what it came down to was this: Spot wanted to support Leapfrog and Jack wanted to support Sin. Spot had this feeling that Sin wasn't to be trusted; he thought Sin'd go crazy with the power and end the good times we'd been having. But Jack was convinced that Leapfrog wasn't powerful enough to stop Herring and that he wouldn't be respected. After a few hours, Jack, smooth talker that he is, convinced Spot to unite with him and grant firm support to Sin."

"And so a week later, Sin was put in charge of Queens and Leapfrog fled for Brooklyn, where Spot welcomed him openly and he quickly became Spot's right hand man. Everything was fine for another two or three weeks, when a fight broke out between some of the boys from Brooklyn and some of the ones from Queens. See, Sin didn't think that he had enough selling area and disliked that Spot had some of the nicest bits of the city, so he decided he'd let some of his boys sell in Brooklyn. Well, this was exactly what Spot was worried about when he and Jack met. Angrily, Spot sent a messenger to Jack telling him what had happened and telling Jack that he was responsible for keeping Sin in line. Unwisely, Jack ignored him and sent a letter back saying that perhaps it was time to redraw the territorial lines in order to keep the peace. That's when the happiness ended; Brooklyn and Queens have been fighting over territory ever since and Spot and Jack have been at odds. Jack's convinced that Spot's been trying to kill him or take over and Spot's angry at Jack for turning his back on him."

"That brings us up to about a week ago. Since Sin was getting nowhere in Brooklyn, his boys decided, against his word, to start selling in Manhattan. When Jack found out, he tried to get Sin to control his boys, but Sin's solution is to finish things up in Brooklyn. So Jack found himself at a loss for what to do. And that, my friend, is where you come in." Racetrack glanced at Boots. "Get it now?"

Boots nodded. "Jack wants me to go to Brooklyn and try and get Spot's help." Boots mused over everything Racetrack had just told him. "But what am _I_ supposed to do about all of this? I'm not wily like Jack and you and Spot… I'm just… me. I don't know the ways of the street and trickery and stuff."

Racetrack stopped walking and grabbed Boots' shoulder. "Y'know more than ya think, kid. Else, how'd you survive so long like this?" Boots smiled, a touch uncomfortable with this sudden display of friendship, but grateful to know that someone is on his side. "If y'ask me," Race continued, "Jack doesn't know what he wants you ta do either, but he obviously trusts you enough to figure it out yourself, right?" He paused again. "Bring him a gift… a slingshot or somethin'. Spot likes things like that. You'll figure the rest out… just do what feels right."

Boots stopped. "Race?"

"Hm?"

"If you know so much, then why'd Jack pick me to do all of this?"

Race started walking again before he answered. "Kid like you… Spot's not gonna think anything of ya." Racetrack didn't need to say anything else; Boots could already tell what he meant. He wished Racetrack had been more open about it, and he hated that it had to be such a discomforting issue. But he understood that too, just like he understood what Racetrack really wanted to say.

_Kid like you… Spot'll just think you're some runaway servant from the South._

* * *

Wow. It's been like three years since I wrote the last chapter of this fic. I've always meant to write more, but things kept getting in my way and I was struggling to find the inspiration. Sure enough, I picked it back up again. I apologize for that and apologize that this chapter, short as usual, is mostly exposition. But it was really fun to write.

I'd appreciate your reviews, even if they just say, "I read your fic." If you've ever read _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead_, you will understand when I say that my whole existence is based on the assumption that somebody is reading. Although the truth is not quite that dramatic.

**fNOb**


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